


Far Too Long

by LumosLyra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Harry Potter Being an Idiot, If You Squint - Freeform, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Oblivious Harry, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Some Plot, Sort Of, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27916750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra
Summary: Her words didn’t register, and he threw his arm over his eyes, the attempt at blocking out more of the sun mildly successful. “Come again?”“I’ve waited for two bloody weeks, Harry. My patience is limited, you know, especially during protracted periods of time that are absolutely unnecessary.”“Am I dreaming? You’re not making—” He felt the warmth of her smaller hand slide beneath the fabric of his pants and the curl of her fingers as she took hold of his cock. “—Christ, Hermione.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 14
Kudos: 139
Collections: Dirty Festivus 2020





	Far Too Long

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KoraKwidditch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoraKwidditch/gifts).



> I was so excited to write this excessively dirty bit of smut for the lovely KoraKwidditch! I hope you like it, friend! Thanks to FaeOrabel for beta-ing! Happy Holidays!

Harry was entirely certain there was a stampede of hippogriffs or possibly erumpents gallivanting around in his head. The immediate hiss that left his mouth at the sear of pain that flashed across his corneas when he attempted to blink made him examine his surroundings, as best he could… through one barely open eye and the haze of a throbbing headache.

His mouth was parched, and he swallowed what little saliva there was, only to gag at the taste of whatever he’d drunk last night still coating his tongue. 

He was in someone’s bed in the suite that he, Hermione, and Blaise had shared on their trip to Amalfi. They spent the first two days making arrangements with the Italian Ministry for the transfer of two prisoners of war, and the third, to assist in arranging Italy’s contribution for the next Quidditch World Cup. The following four days had been spent in a cozy villa with a private beach. Hermione and Blaise must have finished their work early because most of what they did amounted to lazing around half-nude on the beach, sipping cocktails. They’d begged him to come out, to relax a bit while they still had access to the villa, but he resolutely stayed indoors and finished his reports. 

He’d even caught them in a heated embrace that made him simultaneously blush and grow intensely aroused at the sight of his two friends taking their pleasure from one another. Blaise had tugged the top of Hermione’s bikini to the side, his dark hand grasping her breast, fingers curling around the perfect globe and pressing indents into the supple flesh. Her mouth fell open, and her back arched against the bark of the tree where Blaise had cornered her. The tall wizard dipped his head and sucked at the skin of her neck, leaving a mark that would haunt Harry for the next three days since Hermione seemed to show little concern with covering it up. 

Merlin knew she was more affectionate on this trip than she had been on any other trip he’d ever taken. She’d fall into his lap and wind her fingers around his neck as they watched a movie, dropping a kiss to his cheek before she inevitably fell asleep. Similarly, Blaise’s hands always found their way onto Harry’s shoulders or waist as they prepared food in the small kitchen, moving around each other in such a way that it felt natural. 

Even with the easy affection of his two friends, Harry still felt like he was an intruder on something private. They always made certain to include him but would occasionally sneak off by themselves. He’d catch them holding hands, kissing each other's cheeks, and laughing about the obscure laws they’d needed to study to arrange for the prisoner transfer with the Italian ministry. Blaise endeavoured to teach Hermione enough Italian to function within the country but would get exasperated with her when she would playfully respond back in Russian. 

Still, there were times Hermione would shoo them out of the villa so she could read in peace and he and Blaise would wander the village. Blaise’s arm would drape around Harry’s shoulders in a friendly embrace while they looked at foods and wares at the various stalls in the market, always finding something to bring back for Hermione or a trinket for another friend. 

Harry was still a bit surprised they hadn’t asked him to leave so they could be alone. It was clear their relationship was blossoming, though he’d had no idea they were even together. He knew they were friends, but after witnessing the display on the beach that thoroughly required him to take a cold shower, he was all but certain they were together. 

The memories from the night before slowly filtered back into his mind. They’d watched a movie in Hermione’s room and played some silly drinking game followed by a ridiculous round of truth or dare. He couldn’t remember any of the truths he might have uttered, but he recalled stripping down to his boxers at one point and jumping into the ocean before kissing Blaise on a dare. He couldn’t remember feeling hesitant, but the heat of the kiss had clearly stuck with him as the memory of Blaise’s long fingers twisting into his dark hair and guiding Harry’s mouth to his returned. 

Harry stretched, closing his eyes once more as his erection throbbed. He reached a hand down, slipping it beneath his cotton pants in a bid to readjust himself, but he found his hand was stilled by the grasp of another on his wrist. 

Judging by the size of the fingers he felt, it was Hermione’s, and his eyes flew open only to immediately shut once more at the blinding light filling the suite. 

“What are you doing?” he whispered. 

“You’re taking too long,” Hermione said, her voice tight as she moved his hand away from where he really wanted to put it. Not that he was one to pleasure himself in bed next to sleeping friends—he wasn’t, but he would just like to adjust himself a bit. 

Her words didn’t register, and he threw his arm over his eyes, the attempt at blocking out more of the sun mildly successful. “Come again?” 

“I’ve waited for two  _ bloody _ weeks, Harry. My patience is limited, you know, especially during protracted periods of time that are absolutely unnecessary.” 

“Am I dreaming? You’re not making—” He felt the warmth of her smaller hand slide beneath the fabric of his pants and the curl of her fingers as she took hold of his cock. “— _ Christ, _ Hermione.” 

The feel of her hand wrapped around him was unlike anything he could have imagined—not that he  _ hadn’t _ imagined it—because he had, far too many times. Dozens of nights were spent in his bed at Hogwarts with his hand curled around his length as he stroked himself to completion with the syllables of her name falling silently from between his lips. 

“When you said you wanted to take it slow, I thought maybe a day or so to sort out your head, not nearly fourteen, Harry.” The pads of her fingers pressed into his shaft, drawing up and down his erection and trapping it in her grasp with her palm. 

He wanted to ask her what she meant—wanted to find out exactly where her thoughts were in that moment—but all semblance of thought went out of his mind when he felt a hot puff of breath leave her mouth before the slick muscle of her tongue circled the head of his cock. 

He swore. Cursed. Let a dozen expletives fall from his lips as each inch of him disappeared into Hermione’s mouth. She was impossibly warm and slick, the gentle suction of her hollowed cheeks drawing beads of precum to the tip and filling her mouth with the salty taste of him. Her hand stroked along the base of his shaft, and Harry finally moved his arm and willed his eyes to open, to be greeted with the sight of his best friend’s lips wrapped around his cock. 

Her cheeks were flushed, and she wore a flimsy camisole and knickers made of something silky, but the sight he absolutely was not expecting to see was that of Blaise’s fingers fisted in her curls, guiding her head over Harry’s shaft. 

“She’s right. You were taking far too long.” 

Harry drew in a quick breath as Blaise held Hermione’s head down, her nose  _ just _ brushing against his pelvis. 

“And doesn’t she look lovely like this? Mouth full of cock. Cheeks pretty and pink. Eyes watering because she wants it so desperately she’s willing to let me steal her breath.” Blaise’s dark eyes gazed down upon Hermione reverently as though she were the most precious thing in the world before tugging her back up and allowing her to breathe. Her chest fluttered with panted breaths, her fingers still stroking Harry’s cock as Blaise pulled her up to a tall kneel and claimed her mouth with his own. 

The sight of them kissing only seemed to spur Harry’s arousal. 

Surely, he would wake up any moment and find that this wasn’t actually happening, but it wasn’t as if he was about to deny them whatever they thought he’d promised. He went to speak again, but his breath was stolen as Hermione’s fingers left his shaft and travelled down to cup his bollocks. 

He arched off of the bed, and his eyes closed once more, a vibration of pleasure rumbling through his chest. “ _ Fuck _ .” 

Another hand, much larger and more calloused, joined Hermione’s hand in driving his pleasure. Blaise grasped Harry’s cock tightly in his grip as Hermione massaged his bollocks, quickly turning him into a pliant mess of whimpers and moans. 

“I knew you’d be this way, Harry. You’re exquisite,” Blaise said, “Barely a few touches and you’re already on edge, red and swollen.” 

Harry couldn’t focus, so consumed by pleasure that the rustle of clothing didn’t register and, though he heard Blaise’s words, “Go on, darling, I know you want to,” followed by the sound of a kiss smacked on her cheek, he hadn’t the faintest idea what was about to occur. 

The bed dipped somewhere near his shoulder, and he felt the brush of Hermione’s hand over his fringe, tucking the strands back and out of the way. 

“She tastes delightful," Blaise said, "Better than any forbidden fruit."

Harry felt movement again, and it was only when the brush of Hermione’s knee over his chest registered that he realised she had straddled him. His eyes peeked open to find the perfect pink folds of her cunt mere inches away from his mouth, and he was suddenly ravenous. His arms curled around her thighs, and he shifted her forward until his stubbled cheeks rasped against the soft skin of her thighs and his lips brushed against her already slick center. She released a sweet-sounding sigh as he tentatively parted her with a press of his tongue through her slit. 

"Gods, it's better than I ever imagined." Blaise's grip on Harry's cock loosened and his hips bucked, desperate for more. 

Blaise clicked his tongue. "She comes first. I'll keep you on edge for an hour if I have to, but that witch has been dreaming about riding your face for a week now, and I'll not deny her that." Harry couldn't see Blaise creep closer to Hermione on the bed, one of his arms curling around her waist as he used his other hand to pleasure Harry. "Isn't that right, darling? Tell Harry what you want, and I'm certain he will deliver it nicely.”

Harry felt her shiver before she threaded her fingers through his unruly hair and slotted his mouth against her center. “I need you to make me come, Harry.” 

Her hand suddenly smacked against the wall behind the bed and the fingers gripping his hair tightened as a loud smack filled the room along with a squeal from Hermione. 

“You can do better than that, Hermione.” 

A bead of moisture slipped over his chin, and Harry grinned, ghosting his mouth over her slick cunt. “I think she likes that.” His lips vibrated against her folds with each spoken syllable, and she canted her hips as if begging for more. He knew exactly how she felt as Blaise’s touch on his cock grew featherlight. 

“I know she does.” The whisper of skin caressing skin told Harry that Blaise was running his finger over what was likely a large, well-formed handprint on Hermione’s arse. “She also knows how to use her words to get what she wants. Makes her blush to say them, but she knows the rules.” 

Harry didn’t even have time to think about what rules Blaise might be referencing, as the other man’s grip tightened once more over Harry’s shaft and he keened, his arms tugging Hermione’s cunt against his lips. He kept each movement slow and light, wanting to hear what Blaise said to be true—that his best friend just might be capable of using words he thought might not fall within her repertoire. 

Another loud smack echoed off of the hard surfaces in the room, and Harry held his breath, waiting as Hermione keened above him. 

“Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck.”  _

“Are you going to use your words like a good girl, or do I need to turn you over my knee,  _ pet _ ?” Blaise’s voice was low and dangerous, confident in a way that Harry hadn’t expected as if they’d played this exact game before. 

Above him, Harry felt the muscles in Hermione’s legs stiffen as her back straightened, ragged breaths making her chest heave. He lapped at her cunt, the tip of his tongue brushing just over the hood of her clit and making her jump. 

“N-no, Sir. I… I can use my words.” 

It had been many years since Harry had heard Hermione stumble over her words. The fact was not lost on him that she’d referred to Blaise as ‘sir,’ and Harry wondered just how long they’d been together. He suspected much longer than he’d originally thought, but his mind wouldn’t allow him to linger over the how and why they came to this moment. All that seemed to matter to his hung-over mind was that a willing witch desperately wanted him to make her come with his mouth and a fit wizard was stroking his cock, threatening to keep him on edge until he finished the job. 

Which evidently, he wasn’t supposed to do until she managed to speak her own desires out loud. 

Harry gave her folds a gentle nudge with his nose before drawing his tongue through them once more, his lips tightening around her clit just enough to make her whine and seek more friction. His fingers curled into her thighs, holding her in place as he waited for the inevitable. 

“Oh, god,  _ Harry. _ ”

The sound of his name falling from her lips sent a frisson of pleasure through him. 

“Harry, please…” Her voice trailed off as he gently nibbled at her folds, tugging lightly with his teeth before soothing the flesh with his tongue. 

Another squeal left Hermione’s mouth as Blaise’s hand came down once more upon her arse. The sound of it alone made Harry wince, and he knew it must be brightly coloured, but the soft moan that fell from her lips as the inevitable sting dissipated into a low burn made him wonder if she was purposefully holding back. 

“Last chance, pet. Harry wants to hear exactly what you want him to do to you. Don’t you, Harry?” Blaise’s fingers left his cock completely to curl around Harry’s hip, and he felt what must have been his other hand ghost over Hermione’s folds before the tips of his fingers brushed against Harry’s mouth. Harry’s lips instinctively parted, and Blaise slipped a single finger into his mouth, effectively blocking Hermione’s cunt from any further stimulation until she spoke. 

He hummed, tongue curling along Blaise’s finger, the low burn of pleasure spreading through his abdomen. 

His eyes opened to watch Hermione lean forward, grasping at the bed frame for support. He could see little beyond her torso and breasts, the curve of her lips just visible as the rush of words he had been so desperate to hear finally fell from her lips. 

“I want Harry to fuck my pussy with his tongue and make me come.” 

Blaise’s finger withdrew from Harry’s mouth, parting Hermione’s folds and swiping through the slick gathered at her entrance before pressing a finger within her and causing another soft moan to fall from her lips. 

“Good girls get what they want, don’t they, Harry?” He felt the press of Blaise’s finger at his mouth, and he opened again, licking the sweet nectar from the other man’s finger. 

He didn’t have time to respond as Hermione lowered her hips once more, Blaise’s hand on her hip, guiding her down until Harry wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked. Rapturous sounds fell from her lips as he worked her with his tongue, redoubling his efforts to make her come when he felt the gentle trace of Blaise’s tongue over his own shaft. 

Harry’s mind swam, unable to focus for long as Blaise spoke, “You have a gorgeous cock, Harry.” Another swipe of his tongue and puff of breath made Harry’s head spin. “I can tell how much you want us. You’re just at the edge, aren’t you? It won’t take much to push you over.” 

Harry’s tongue darted out, slipping inside of Hermione’s cunt, wet smacking noises filling his ears as each lick and suck drew her closer to oblivion. His hands kept her shaking knees prised apart, but it was the dark whimper that vibrated through her at Blaise’s words that finally sent her falling into bliss. 

He worked her through it, prolonging her pleasure with gentle sweeps of his tongue until she was a pliant, sobbing mess above him. He heard Blaise whisper something in her ear, something quiet and calming because she settled into Blaise’s embrace as Harry pressed gentle kisses into her thighs and gently massaged her legs with his hands. 

Blaise helped manoeuvre Hermione off of Harry, and their eyes met for the first time. His head still pounded from the hangover, but it was dulled by the lust and intensity in the other man’s dark eyes. “We’re not finished,” Blaise said, and Harry nodded. 

His head turned, watching as Blaise gently kissed the tears away from Hermione’s cheeks, and he reached out, entwining their fingers as she drew deep breaths. He knew she must be overly sensitive between the short, but hard, spanking and how he’d teased her. He turned onto his side and leaned over to press a soft kiss to her cheek, something he’d done a thousand times before, though it suddenly seemed to hold more significance. 

A smile spread across her lips that made Harry’s heart beat loudly within his chest, but he had little time to think on the feeling before Blaise had grasped Harry’s free hand and pinned it above his head. 

The taller, darker man straddled his waist, and Harry felt the brush of Blaise’s length against his own as he pinned him down, his other hand still caught tightly in Hermione’s grip. Harry’s eyes drew over Blaise’s body, taking in the sight of the other man’s leanly muscled frame, the smattering of dark curls over his chest, and the neatly trimmed scruff along his jaw. He was just as beautiful as Hermione with her tanned skin, womanly curves, and bright brown eyes. 

Blaise leaned forward, his voice rasping with need. “You’re a bloody tease, you know that? After everything we talked about, and then you watched us on the beach… and last night. I don’t know if I want to spank you for your insolence or fuck you because just like her, I’ve waited long enough.”

Hermione spoke before Harry could, her voice light and breathless. “Both… you want to do both.” 

Harry was rendered speechless once more by the press of Blaise’s mouth against his. It was hard, demanding, and when Blaise slipped his tongue between the seam of Harry’s lips, Harry parted for him unconditionally, snapping his hips upward as he chased the friction his weeping cock demanded. Blaise ground against him, taking his fill of Harry’s mouth as though it didn’t taste like last night’s firewhisky. He licked and sucked and  _ bit, _ and Harry keened under each skillful stroke. 

Blaise drew back, his eyes dark and clouded with lust. “Weeks, Potter.” 

“I don’t—” His words were stolen with the feel of Blaise’s hand wrapped around his cock, mercilessly stroking the shaft with practised flicks of his wrist. 

“I think Hermione’s right, aren’t you pet?” Blaise’s fond gaze settled on Hermione before his attention turned back to Harry. “I’m going to spank that tight arse of yours until you’re begging me to fuck you.” 

Harry groaned, oblivious to whatever slight he’d managed to give, but also desperate to feel the sweet burn from Blaise’s hand connecting with his arse. He’d never had someone spank his arse before, had never been one to let go of his own control long enough to allow it to happen, but  _ Gods _ if he didn’t roll over willingly and present himself to Blaise. He felt the squeeze of Hermione’s smaller hand in his as his face buried into the sheets, muffling the pleased sounds dropping from his lips with each tease of Blaise’s fingers over his skin. 

The pads of Blaise’s fingers skated over his bollocks to tease his perineum, causing a loud moan to fall from his lips. It felt euphoric; the light touches only serving to make Harry cant his hips in anticipation. A low hiss left his mouth as the blunted tip of Blaise’s finger circled his entrance. It didn’t seem possible for the strings of arousal inside of him to be wound more tightly, but each gentle caress of Blaise’s fingers tightened the feeling of arousal low in Harry’s belly. 

The first sharp slap of Blaise’s hand to his arse nearly made him come undone, his bollocks tightening and threatening to spill his seed all over the sheets. It wasn’t something he was ready for, the abrupt sting quickly cooling as heat bloomed across his arse. 

But he wanted—needed more. 

“You like that, don’t you, Harry?” Hermione asked, and he tilted his head to the side to meet her serene gaze. She smiled at him, something open and knowing but different than the smiles she’d granted him when they were younger. “I can see it in your eyes.” She brushed a lock of his hair away from his face. “He’s very good at it too, leaves pretty marks so you can look back later and remember.” 

Another abrupt impact, the sting of it radiating down his thigh, forced a heavy groan from Harry’s mouth. “ _ Fuck.” _

Blaise’s voice was teasing, fingertips drawing over the imprints on Harry’s backside. “Patience, Potter… all in good time.” 

A series of rapid slaps sent him keening, his body falling forward and a string of curses leaving his mouth. His arse felt like it might be on fire, but it was quite possibly the best he’d ever felt. His head swam with white noise rather than the pounding headache he’d had when he woke up, and his body felt ignited, renewed in some sense, as though he’d been missing this his entire life. 

“He’s close, Blaise.” Hermione’s voice floated around him and, even though he knew she was right next to him, she could have very well been across the room for all he felt like he was floating. “You might make him come from spanking alone.” 

“Yes…” Harry’s mouth somehow managed to form the word. “More.” 

The beat of his heart echoed in his ears, his abdomen pulsing with a pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him. He was tethered to the earth solely by Blaise’s palm pressing into his arse and Hermione’s hand in his. 

“He tasted you, pet. Would you like to do the same for him?” 

He didn’t hear Hermione’s response, but almost immediately after Blaise asked the question, Harry’s body was moved. His feet were planted firmly on the floor, and his hands were made to rest on the bed. His fingers curled into the duvet, and his eyes opened to find Hermione spread out before him, her head hanging just off of the edge of the bed, mouth open and a mischievous spark in her brown eyes. 

Blaise had slotted himself between Hermione’s parted thighs, his dark skin in beautiful contrast with hers—lightly tanned and freckled. Harry felt the rush of air leave Hermione’s mouth as Blaise pressed into her, and it took a moment to compose himself as he watched Blaise’s rigid, thick cock disappear into Hermione’s pussy over and over again. 

Harry’s hand found the column of Hermione’s throat, rubbing the sensitive skin with his palm as he aligned his length with her parted mouth. Her tongue rushed outward to lick the bead of moisture that had gathered at the tip, and his fingers tightened instinctively around her neck. She gasped, and a low, dark sound came from somewhere within her and spurred him on. He loosed his grip as his cock slid into the warmth of her mouth, each of Blaise’s thrusts nudging her just a bit further down Harry’s shaft. 

He pulled out, granting her a breath before plunging back in again, the sensitive glans meeting the softness of her throat such that he could feel the nudge of his cock on his hand with each slow, controlled thrust. 

“I’m not going to last,” he managed to rasp, barely holding on to any semblance of control. It was too much. The feel of Hermione’s mouth around him, each of her moans vibrating around his length as he watched Blaise’s cock disappear into her cunt as he pinched her clit between his fingers, sending her keening and tumbling over the edge. 

Blaise’s hand left Hermione, one still anchored on her hip as he fucked her, not losing stride as he buried the fingers of his other hand in Harry’s hair, pulling him forward in a kiss and holding him there, his hips unable to move. Hermione’s mouth and throat contracted around his cock, and that was all he could take. With a heavy groan, he spilt himself down Hermione’s throat, bursts of light flashing behind his eyes. Blaise kissed him, tongue parting his lips and claiming Harry’s mouth as each aftershock of pleasure rolled over his spine, sending more of his spend into Hermione’s hot mouth. The smack of her hand on his thigh brought him momentarily back to reality, and he pulled back, leaving the head of cock poised just past her lips as she gasped for breath. 

With a few more thrusts, Blaise found his own end as Harry slowly came down from the high of his orgasm. Blaise fell forward, his forehead resting on Harry’s shoulder as he groaned. Harry shifted his hips, legs heavy as he pulled his cock away from Hermione’s mouth, who had been gently teasing him with sweet, reverent kisses. 

Harry collapsed on the bed, next to Hermione, who had scooted slightly so that her head no longer hung off of the side, and he curled into the warmth of her body. Her head turned, and she kissed him with an easy affection, the languid movements of their lips washing over him like the warmth of the sun. Harry felt the bed depress behind him before Blaise’s lean body pressed against his back, making him feel snug and content between them. 

A comfortable silence fell over the room, with only the sounds of their breathing, languid, lazy kisses shared between them and the rustle of their skin against the sheets breaking through the quiet. 

Harry’s mind slowly began to focus once more and the words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that about?” 

“You were taking too long,” Hermione yawned. 

The pounding in his head returned as he tried to think of what she might mean. “Too long for what?” 

“To make a move,” Blaise said. “It’s been two weeks, Potter.” 

Two weeks ago, they’d been back in England. He’d spent at night with them at the pub, and they’d all crashed back at Grimmauld Place. He didn’t remember much after betting Blaise he could win at darts and then getting thoroughly stomped and drinking some ridiculously expensive whisky as a concession. He remembered Hermione watching him, eyes dancing with something he couldn’t place and the looks he kept sharing with Blaise. After that, he’d spent the week alternating time between Hermione’s flat and Blaise’s home, grabbing brunch with Hermione and wandering around Harrod’s with Blaise. 

“You said you needed time; we gave you time.” Hermione twisted in his arms to curl her body against his. 

“Too much time,” Blaise agreed, “Could’ve been doing that for two weeks.” 

The words from a half-forgotten conversation echoed in his mind, the memory playing behind his eyelids. 

_ “We should go out together sometime. There's a great place around the corner that has amazing mimosas.” Hermione had smiled at him, her finger tracing the rim of her glass while Blaise stood behind her, hands resting on her shoulders.  _

_ “If you’re agreeable, that is,” Blaise had said. “Just the three of us.”  _

_ Hermione had leaned forward at that point, just enough past tipsy that it made her brave. Harry had missed her parted lips then, but they were clear as day in the memory and instead of leaning into the kiss she was so obviously giving, he’d tucked her into his chest thinking she had lost her balance at the high bar table where they stood. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll just need a bit of time.”  _

_ He’d meant to arrange his schedule, but clarity dawned over him as the memory played behind his mind and for a fraction of a second, Hermione looked hurt before her face contorted into something bright.  _

_ “Time… yes, absolutely. I’m sure it’s sudden.”  _

_ He smiled down at her, his cheeks heating with whisky in his veins. “Just a bit.”  _

_ “When you’re ready,” Blaise said, “We will be too.”  _

Harry’s stomach contorted in his abdomen, twisting painfully as the memory finished. What a bloody idiot he’d been. The increase in the easy affections bestowed by Hermione and Blaise over the past two weeks were anything but incidental. They were purposeful, waiting for him to commit to something he’d agreed to without thinking nor understanding. He was mortified, and while it was something he hadn’t even realised he wanted—a relationship with them—something beyond friendship and casual sex was now something he craved. 

He wanted them—both of them. Their days, their nights, their bodies, their minds, for as long as they deemed him worthy. He might not ever tell them of his error, but he would spend the rest of their time in Italy making up for being so oblivious.

“I’m sorry for making you wait,” he said, his voice quiet, hoping neither of them would realise how tremulous his voice sounded to his own ears. 

Hermione hummed and nuzzled her nose against his chest while Blaise’s arm tightened around Harry’s waist. “Give me an hour, and you can make it up to us.” 

“Half-an-hour,” Hermione said, a teasing lilt to her voice. “By my count, you owe me at least a dozen orgasms.” 

Harry’s hand ghosted over Hermione’s waist as he twisted his head to the side to press his lips against the stubbled line of Blaise’s jaw. 

“Deal.” 

  
  
  



End file.
